Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Songs of Regret	By : RavieSnake Category: Harry Potter > Het - Male/Female > Draco/Hermione Views: 76454 -:- Recommendations : 5 -:- Currently Reading : 17
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters from it. I also hold no rights to any of the songs mentioned. I make no money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 16
- 17
- 18
A/N: I’m sorry that the past few chapters have been so sad…this one is too. But happier times are on the horizon...

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

~
Four hours left.
~
"Ginny, dear...be a help and bring this up to Hermione," Molly Weasley huffed as she thrust a breakfast tray at her daughter.
"I can bring zee tray up to 'er," Fleur chimed in as she attempted to reach for the tray.

Ginny pulled the tray away. "I think I can manage it," she replied curtly.

There was no way she was letting Fleur get near Hermione this morning. She did not need to be pestered, she was miserable enough.

Seemingly oblivious to the irritation she was causing, Fleur shrugged and turned then to try and help a red faced Molly finish serving breakfast. Ginny rolled her eyes and then stalked up the stairs with the tray towards her room. Hermione had again feigned illness to stay in bed, though this time she really did seem sick. When Ginny came to the landing to their bedroom, she hesitated before opening the door.

Last night, when Hermione had returned from seeing her boyfriend, she had hid under her blankets and cried herself to sleep. At first Ginny had assumed that her mystery man must have broken off their relationship, but when she had quietly asked her if this was the case, Hermione had said 'no' and then cried harder.

Ginny could only guess at what was wrong. Perhaps something bad had happened to him, or he was in trouble, or they’d been caught... All she knew for sure was that it was tearing Hermione apart and she had agreed to try and help her through it.

With a heavy sigh, Ginny pushed the door open only a crack to peer inside before entering.

Hermione was seated at the edge of her bed, looking into her mirror. When she saw the door crack open she looked-up in alarm but then relaxed when she realized it was Ginny.

She gave Ginny a sad smile and motioned for her to enter.

"Close the door behind you please, Gin," she said softly.

Ginny entered and closed the door with her foot. Hermione nodded her thanks and then went back to looking into her mirror.

As Ginny set down the tray she watched Hermione make a series of hand movements to whoever was on the other side of the mirror. She was rather impressed with how far the two were willing to go to be together. She doubted Ron would have ever learned a secret sign language just for Hermione.

Ginny sat on the edge of her own bed and quietly waited for Hermione to finish her conversation. After a few minutes, Hermione kissed the mirror and then held it to her chest and began to softly cry again.

"Will everything be okay?" Ginny asked quietly.

Hermione shook her head slightly, “I don’t know.”

She closed her eyes and fell back onto the bed. Her mind raced with horrible possibilities. What if he flinches and angers Voldemort? What if Voldemort is able to read his mind? What if he panics? What if the pain is too much? What if…what if… what if…

“Anything you’re able to talk about yet? You know you can trust me,” Ginny offered.

“I trust you…but no,” Hermione answered flatly. She pulled her legs onto the bed and curled-up on her side. “Just…a little later today…if I go for a walk…will you please make sure no one follows me?” she asked Ginny gloomily.

“Are you going to meet him?”

“No. I don’t know when I will get to see him again. I will just need to be alone. I promise I won’t leave the property.”

Ginny gave Hermione a small reassuring smile, “Okay.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco tugged on his ear and then kissed the mirror. When he pulled it away from his mouth, the picture had gone black.

He was glad that he had been able to catch Hermione one last time. She had given him the exact loving reassurance that he had been seeking. He only hoped it would be enough to see him through.

He stared at the black picture for several minutes before he stood from the edge of his bed and went to his bathroom. He closed the door and then went to the linen closet and opened it. He knelt down on the floor and, using his wand, removed a tile from the floor within the closet to reveal a small, rectangular hole.

Draco took the mirror and wrapped it in its velvet bag and then placed it within the hole next to a small pile of galleons, an arrowhead, a snitch, and a gleaming green pearl. He replaced the tile and cast a protective spell over the space and then got up and closed the door.

He went to the shower, started the tap, and then disrobed and stepped in. For a long time he just leaned against the shower wall and let the scalding water massage his tired body.

Steam filled the bathroom as the shower went on and Draco let the memory of the previous night fill his mind as he washed. It would have to sustain him through the next three days. He cringed at the thought. At least three days without any contact with Hermione.

That’s how long it had been before he was released from the confines of an unknown estate after receiving the Mark the first time. Bellatrix had bound him to the property as part of a three day long ‘celebration’ that consisted of two dozen or so Death Eaters downing case after case of Firewhiskey and wine and then drunkenly dueling and fighting and fucking each other.

Draco didn’t remember much of it as they had kept him sufficiently plastered, but his mother had not allowed the others to involve him in anything sexual. He’d been upset at the time, but he was glad for her interference now. The last thing he needed to have to worry about was trying to fend off some filthy drunk bint.

With a groan, Draco gave a final scrub of his scalp and face in the pelting water. He turned off the tap and stepped out, grabbing one of his fluffy white towels to wrap around his waist. He went to the sink counter and leaned his hands on it. It was strange to think that Hermione had been in this exact same spot less than nine hours ago. With a puff he straightened up and looked ahead into the fogged-up mirror on the wall.

Draco frowned at the obscured picture and waved his hand in a wiping motion in the air in front of him. The condensation cleared away from the glass as he did so as if he had actually wiped his hand against it. He smirked. He loved that little bit of wandless magic he was capable of. It was the first magic he could remember doing. He used to draw little pictures in the steam on his mother’s vanity mirror to make her laugh while she got ready each day.

The nostalgic thought came and went and left Draco with nothing but an ever increasing feeling of dread. He valiantly avoided the feeling and went about preparing for the day. He brushed his teeth, did his hair, and, though having considerably less facial hair than he was used to, shaved before leaving the bathroom.

He dressed himself in solid black trousers, a high-collared black dress shirt and a black, four-button suit jacket. He finished the ensemble with a pair of sleek Italian leather dress shoes.

Draco looked into the full length mirror in his wardrobe as he straightened one of his cuffs. He looked like Death and felt like it too.

He summoned his robes and put them on. With a final once over of his reflection, Draco left his wardrobe and went to the bedroom door.

~
Three hours left.
~
Draco slowly made his way down the hall, but stopped just before the sitting room when he heard his mother's voice. He inched to the doorway and secretly peered into the room to see her standing near the fireplace talking to Snape.
"Please, Severus...please! This alone could kill him! I remember when Lucius received it. He was in pain for days, and you know that he never fully recovered...the nerve damage down his left side..." She shook her head as a tear rolled down her cheek. "Draco is so similar to him physically. What if..."

Draco nearly gasped at his mother’s statement about his father. He had once asked his father why he used his walking stick and had been clubbed over the head with it for an answer. Draco knew his father had an ailment he was too proud to admit to, as he sometimes limped and when he practiced dueling he favored his right side and tired quickly. But he never would have guessed that it was a result of his Marking.

"He will not suffer the same fate as Lucius," Snape replied firmly.

"How can you be so sure of that?" Narcissa cried as she wiped her nose with a lacy handkerchief.

"Your son may look like Lucius, Narcissa, but he is much stronger both physically and mentally."

“But he is so young,” she whimpered.

“Draco is quite capable for his age, but I will be there to assist him should he need it. I have vowed to protect him and I will.”

Narcissa closed her eyes and nodded with reluctant acceptance. She opened her eyes again and placed a hand on Snape's arm. "Protect him...just protect him..." she pleaded.

Snape looked down at the manicured hand on his arm and blinked at it several times before he looked back up at her.

Draco watched curiously then as his mother and Snape simply stared at each other. Neither one moved for a good half minute. It may have been a trick of the light, but it almost looked as if they began to lean toward one another.

A floor board creaked beneath Draco’s foot as he leaned into the door frame and Snape and his mother looked up. Narcissa lowered her hand away from Snape’s arm and forced a smile to her son. Snape simply turned and faced Draco with the same cool expression he always did.

Draco narrowed his eyes and looked between the two. He looked Snape up and down suspiciously, and then looked back at his mother. She merely smiled and motioned for him to join them.

He had to have imagined it. His fear of the next couple of hours was now causing paranoia. This day was going to push him to the brink. Draco shook his head in an attempt to clear it and then went to his mother. She embraced him tightly and he accepted the hug stiffly with a glance at Snape who had turned away.

Narcissa pulled back and looked him in the face. “You do exactly as you are commanded. Listen to what Severus tells you.” Draco nodded silently. “I will see you tonight,” she said with a final kiss to his cheek. She stepped aside and then watched as Draco went to Snape.

Snape turned to him and placed a hand on his shoulder. “Ready?”

Draco swallowed deeply and nodded. The next moment they Apparated away, and Narcissa collapsed to the floor.

~
Two hours left.
~
((Knock Knock Knock))
Hermione rolled over in her bed and ignored the sound at the bedroom door. She rubbed her locket in between her fingers and closed her eyes in an attempt to go back to sleep. She did not want to think anymore. She wished she had access to a sleeping draught. The knock sounded again and she groaned.

“Hermione?” came Ron’s slightly muffled voice from the other side of the door. Hermione groaned louder and pulled her pillow over her head. Ron had been checking on her every fifteen minutes.

“Ronald! I told you to leave her alone! She’s fine, she just has cramps. Now go!” the angry voice of Ginny Weasley sounded as she opened the door and then slammed it in Ron’s blushing face. Hermione heard Ron’s footsteps retreat away and pulled the pillow away from her face. She turned over again to face Ginny.

“You couldn’t think of a less embarrassing ailment?” Hermione asked in tired amusement.

Ginny twisted her mouth. “I knew it would make Ron uncomfortable so he’ll stop coming up here…I use the same excuse whenever I want him to bugger-off for a bit.”

Hermione let out an amused hmpf. She knew all about Ron’s aversions to the workings of the female reproductive system. Even when they were on good terms, Ron had avoided her whenever she had had her monthly. With another sigh, she rolled onto her back to stare at the ceiling and twirled her locket lazily in her fingers.

“So…what’s he like?” Ginny asked, leaning back on her bed. She thought perhaps talking about her boyfriend might help stop Hermione from focusing on whatever badness was plaguing her. Hermione smiled.

“He’s wonderful…” she replied breathily, still staring at the ceiling. There was a brief silence and Hermione turned her face toward Ginny who motioned for her to elaborate. Hermione smiled a little wider.

“Well…he’s arrogant…but caring. He is strong, but can be gentle. He is handsome, but makes me feel beautiful. He is rather chivalrous, but he doesn’t baby me. He is intelligent and can keep up a decent conversation. He loves music and archery and Quidditch…and he has the best laugh in the world,” she said dreamily.

“He sounds like the perfect man,” Ginny said with a small chuckle.

Hermione grinned. “In every way,” she whispered suggestively. Ginny’s eyes widened.

“Have the two of you…?”

Hermione bit her lip and nodded. Ginny scooted to the edge of her bed and leaned forward.

“How was it?” she asked eagerly. Hermione laughed at her friend’s enthusiasm. Ginny had confided in her plenty about her and Harry’s sex life in the future. The redhead was not prude in any sense of the word.

“Better than I ever thought possible, Gin. It’s like his body was made just to fit mine. Every time is better than the last,” Hermione answered happily.

Ginny gawked at her a little. “Shite, how many times have you done it? Haven’t you only been together for like a week and a half?” Hermione merely shrugged and Ginny shook her head and laughed. “How did you meet him anyway? Does he go to Hogwarts?”

Hermione looked serious for a moment. “You know I can’t answer that, Gin.”

Ginny pouted slightly but then smiled at Hermione. “Well, I can’t wait to meet him,” she said sincerely. Hermione nearly slipped and said ‘you already have,’ but caught herself. Instead she simply nodded and closed her eyes again.

~
One hour left.
~
“Are you excited?” a hard looking woman whispered as she nudged against Draco’s shoulder. He stood stock still and merely looked sideways at her.
“Of course he is Natya…Tell her Draco,” Bellatrix beamed as she sidled up next to them. “Tell your fellow inductee how honored you are that you’ve both been chosen.” She said it innocently, but there was a dangerous threat lurking behind her eyes as she narrowed them at Draco, waiting for his response.

“I’m ecstatic,” Draco drawled. He startled himself with how like Snape he had just sounded and he smirked. He quickly scanned the crowd gathered in the reception hall to see where Snape had gone to but didn’t see him. He looked back at Bellatrix. Her mouth had curled up into a crooked grin.

“Looking for your handler?” she taunted.

“Fuck you,” Draco responded casually. Natya took a step back from the two and darted her eyes between them eagerly awaiting what she assumed would be a violent confrontation. But Bellatrix simply looked Draco up and down slowly with a cocked eyebrow.

“Mmmm…wish you could,” she purred while biting her lip, “but I don’t think mummy would approve.”

Draco shuddered. Merlin, she was fucking warped.

Bellatrix laughed at him then and Natya joined her. The two harpies cackled on as Draco walked away from them. He made his way through the other Death Eaters that were gathered and talking with one another, careful to avoid making eye contact with anyone. Aside from Severus, he hated every last one of these fucks and had no desire to be among them. Where the hell was Severus?

He had brought him here for the pre-Marking gathering, but had left him only half an hour after arriving. Draco then spent the following hour and a half awkwardly standing against the wall making strained conversation with whoever dared approach him. And he could feel people staring at him. It was most unsettling. This whole affair was torture.

The last time he had done this, he hadn’t left his aunt’s side as she paraded him about proudly and hadn’t needed to worry about what to do with himself. But now, he was alone and just continued to walk aimlessly around the hall.

Draco found his way to a refreshment table and stood before it. His anxious stomach turned at the sight of the food and he went to turn away when a large hand slapped him on the back.

“This is it, isn’t it boy?” a burly, bearded man said heartily. Draco’s heart dropped at the sight of him. It was Riordan McClintock...the man that would have the heart attack.

Draco simply nodded at him and the man laughed. “Quiet like your old man, eh? Shame he couldn’t be here to see you get it.”

Draco shrugged his shoulders infinitesimally. McClintock slapped him on the back again, “You think you’re a tough little shite, don’t ya kid?” He chuckled again. “I guess we’ll find out soon enough.”

“Indeed.”

Draco whirled around to see Snape staring down McClintock.

“The Dark Lord will arrive momentarily,” Snape said coolly. “I suggest you prepare yourself.”

McClintock’s eyes widened slightly and he nodded at Snape before walking away. When he was out of ear shot Draco turned on Snape. “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been dying out here.”

“I was ordered to prepare the new masks,” Snape replied quietly. Draco paled a little. The Death Eater mask fitting was not pleasant. He was dreading it almost as much as the Marking.

“Have you been practicing your pain exercises?” Snape said under his breath as he leaned over the refreshment table with the pretense of perusing the food. Draco nodded slightly. Snape stood straight again and looked him in the eyes.

“You must have a good showing. Do not scream, do not flinch, do not move or speak unless told to do so,” he thought to him.

“I know! I have done this before,” Draco thought back irritated. Snape huffed in annoyance.

“Yes, but that puts you at a disadvantage. You know what is coming this time and will be more inclined to react prematurely. I will not be able to help you while you are up there. You must keep your head…for both our sakes,” Snape finished forebodingly.

Before Draco could respond, the main double doors to the hall opened and a hush fell over the crowd. Draco and Snape looked toward the doors to see Voldemort entering the hall. He walked haughtily and deliberately as one might imagine a pharaoh would through the crowd as his loyal subjects bowed and parted a path for him.

Draco’s mind was momentarily white with fear and his breathing had ceased. Snape noticed his reaction and elbowed him in the ribs. Draco sucked in a breath and bowed just as Voldemort passed him. His heart thudded as his eyes followed Voldemort to the head of the hall. He felt Snape step away from him and watched as his mentor followed the Dark Lord to stand at his right side. The two turned to face the now silently waiting crowd.

Voldemort gave his followers a sickening attempt at a smile as he addressed them. “My faithful flock…Today you are all gathered here to bare witness to the induction of our newest honored brethren into our sacred order. From this day forth they will bare my Mark to signify their loyalty both to me and to all of those who are of pure magical blood. There can be no greater honor. Now…the chosen will step forward when called,” Voldemort bellowed over the crowd.

The hall was suddenly alive with murmurs and anxious shifting, but it died down quickly when Voldemort shouted the first name.

“Dorian Maxwell!” he called out.

A tall, swarthy, well muscled man stepped from the middle of the crowd and approached the front. He bowed to Voldemort and then knelt before him facing away from the crowd.

“Natya Mininkskiya!” Natya left her place from against the wall near Bellatrix and followed Dorian’s lead.

“Fielding Everardt!”

“Terrance Grady!”

“Riordan McClintock!”

Draco watched as each man stepped forward, bowed and then knelt in line. Blood was rushing so fast through his ears that he could hear his own pulse. The sound got louder with each name that was called. The world was hazy. His head felt hot. His body felt numb. The pounding reached a deafening level. He barely heard the next name…

“Draco Malfoy!”

~

Thirty minutes left.

~

Hermione watched the others as she sat on the back steps of the Burrow. Ginny had convinced her to leave the room to watch her, Ron, Bill Weasley and Fleur play a friendly two on two game of Quidditch, as she was sure that some fresh air would help her feel better. Nothing short of hearing that Voldemort was dead was going to cheer her up, but she had consented to try and lessen Ginny’s burden of caring for her. She didn’t need guilt on top of her worry.

Slouched over with her forearms on her knees, Hermione lazily followed the four as they flew around. Fleur wasn’t playing so much as she was laughing and talking upon her broom and Ron wasn’t playing so much as he was watching Fleur, but everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves. The thought of anyone being happy while Draco was trapped in a room somewhere being branded made her want to cry and be sick. This was making her feel worse.

She looked down at the pocket watch she had borrowed from Arthur and her stomach lurched. Draco was surely in Voldemort’s presence already. She could barely stand the thought and her mind raced with worry. Please be okay, please be okay, please be okay…

She was fairly confident that Draco could handle himself as he had survived it before, but she knew not to underestimate Voldemort. He was merciless and unpredictable and nothing in this reality was guaranteed to happen as it had before.

Tears leaked down Hermione’s cheeks and she stood. She caught Ginny’s eye from across the lawn and nodded. When Ginny gave her a reassuring smile and nodded back, Hermione quietly slipped around the side of the house to start her walk.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

In........Out….....In........Out........

Draco concentrated on taking slow deliberate breaths. Snape's pain management techniques where rubbish...his knees and back still hurt like hell.

He cautiously glanced up at the clock on the wall ahead of him. He'd been kneeling like this for half an hour while Voldemort hissed on about the importance of blood purity and magical superiority and whatever the bloody hell else. Draco wasn't really listening. All he could hear was his own pulse still whooshing in his eardrums and McClintock already taking grunting breaths beside him.

Draco was suddenly very glad for his sixteen-year-old body. He knew he'd really be struggling to keep this position in his thirty-seven-year-old one. How McClintock hadn't already keeled over was a mystery.

The crowd behind him suddenly erupted in applause and Draco snapped his attention back to Voldemort. Fuck…what did he just say?

Draco didn’t have to wait long to find out as a blank silver mask was thrust in front of him. He raised his eyes just as Snape walked away to place an identical mask in front of McClintock and the others.

The low light of the hall gleamed off of the mask as it floated in the air only inches from Draco’s face. He felt his body start to tremble. Damn it, Snape was right…knowing what was coming was so much worse than not.

In........Out….....In........Out........

When Snape had placed all of the masks he retreated back into the crowd and Voldemort stepped forward and stood directly before Maxwell. Draco turned his face ever so slightly to see them.

“Dorian Maxwell, do you accept this mask? The mask of a Death Eater? Do you agree to honor it and all that it hides?” Voldemort asked forcefully.

“Yes, my Lord,” Maxwell answered loudly. As soon as the last word fell from his mouth, Voldemort waved his wand and the mask adhered to Maxwell’s face. His long, black hair tossed about his back as his body convulsed while the mask formed to his face. An intricate set of swirls and markings etched magically into the mask to distinguish it as Maxwell’s and then he went still.

Draco could see Maxwell’s chest heaving, but the mask remained in place obscuring the grimace that was sure to be on his face. He watched then as Voldemort stepped before Natya and asked her the same questions of acceptance. When she consented her mask clung to her face. A muffled sob escaped her as she too convulsed while her pattern formed.

Voldemort stepped up to Everardt.

In........Out….....In........Out........

Everardt wheezed painfully behind his newly etched mask.

Voldemort was before Grady.

Grady swayed a little on his knees.

In........Out….....In........Out........

Voldemort was in front of McClintock. Draco could feel the evil radiating from him as he asked the large man if he accepted.

“Yes, my Lord,” McClintock answered in a labored breath. The mask flew to his face and he grunted loudly. Draco looked straight ahead. He did not want to watch the man struggle.

As the mask formed, McClintock bent forward and braced himself with a hand to the ground. Voldemort raised an eyebrow at him and sneered. After a moment McClintock straightened back up but was noticeably in distress. Voldemort ignored him and then took one more step to his left.

In........Out….....In........Out........

“Draco Malfoy…”

In....Out….In....Out....

“…do you accept this mask…”

In….Out….In....

“…the mask of a Death Eater?”

In....Out….Vanilla….…Eucalyptus…..

“Do you agree to honor it…”

Brown curls…….Fire..…..Soft lips……..

“…and all that it hides?”

Draco felt a calm settle over him as Hermione’s face flitted across the back of his mind. He stared resolutely ahead.

“Yes, my Lord,” he answered with conviction. Voldemort gave him a nearly indiscernible smirk and waved his wand. Draco braced himself as the mask sucked to his face. The metal heated and then molded into his features to match the contours of his face exactly.

Draco clenched his teeth as the metal seared against his skin and the mask squeezed his face like a vise. His pattern began to draw itself and as it did so his body involuntarily shook with the pain. The sensation was that of a dozen tiny scalpels carving into his flesh to match each and every swirl as they formed upon the outside of the mask. His face was on fire. The pressure was so intense his vision went black. He couldn’t breathe…his head was going to explode…he wanted to scream…

And then it stopped.

Draco blinked rapidly as his vision came back and he attempted to steady his ragged breathing through the tiny opening in the mask. He needed to calm down. The mask was the easy part.

~

Ten minutes left.

~

That hill.

Hermione had been wandering about the Weasleys’ property trying to find the best place to put herself. She needed a place far enough from the yard and house to be out of sight and earshot of the others, but needed to be near enough to be safe and found if something happened. The small hill ahead of her was the perfect spot. Its summit was obscured by several large trees jutting up from the middle of the slope, but it wasn’t too steep and she’d still be able to get to the house quickly if she needed.

She huffed her way up and gasped at the sight that met her at the top. Below was the nearest town. It looked like a picture from a postcard… safe and peaceful. If only.

Hermione took off her robes and spread them out on the ground. She sat down on it and then placed her wand and mirror on the ground in front of her. She pulled her knees up towards her chest and rested her arms on them as she opened the watch again. She huffed a troubled breath and snapped it shut again. She stared out over the beautiful horizon as her insides roiled.

In less than ten minutes her lover would be Marked to hate her.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Grady’s sobbing was even more unsettling than Natya’s piercing screams had been. Draco closed his eyes behind his mask.

Shut up, shut up, shut up…

Voldemort came before McClintock’s shuddering form to explain his mission to him before he would administer the Dark Mark. The brawny man’s beard trembled beneath his mask.

Maxwell was still breathing hard, Natya and Grady were still crying, and Everardt was on all fours retching.

~
Five minutes left.
~
Hermione had her arms clutched around her knees as she rocked back and forth on the hill.
Huge tears rolled down her face as she stared at the watch. She whimpered and then looked out into the distance. He was out there somewhere. She didn’t even know which direction she should look in to send her love. She closed her eyes as she cried.

Draco, Draco, Draco, Draco….

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

McClintock collapsed to the ground with a heavy thud. His hand fell against Draco’s knee and he nudged it away. Voldemort spat on the dead man and then ripped the silver mask from his face. The mask vanished and then Voldemort stepped over his lifeless body to face Draco.

“Draco Malfoy?”

Draco looked up at the hideous abomination before him.

“Do you see what happens to those who are not worthy?” Voldemort sneered at him while jabbing his wand in McClintock’s direction. “Do you think you are worthy?”
Draco did not dare respond. He simply puffed out his chest and kept his face straight. Voldemort laughed a cruel chuckle.
“I think I may have saved the best for last.”

~
One minute left.
~
Hermione was going insane. She had to do something. She got on her knees and picked up her wand. With a flick a fiery snow leopard burst forth and pounced around her. It sat down before her. She smiled at it and then looked down at the watch. Her heart pounded a little harder with each tick of the second hand. There were no longer days, or hours, or minutes to wait…it was down to seconds.
The flame of the leopard crackled as Hermione watched the second hand tick down.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Do you accept the mission I have just described to you?”

“Yes, my Lord.” Draco’s body was responding of its own accord now. He had shut himself down to the very basics. All he could feel was the ever pounding pulse of his sick heart and the lead weight in his stomach holding him down. He couldn’t even feel his knees anymore.

He barely noticed as someone reached their arms around him from behind and unclasped his robes and pulled them down and off of him. Two hands took hold of his left arm, tore his sleeve back and held it out to Voldemort.

“Draco Malfoy, do you willingly accept the Dark Mark?”

The pounding finally ceased. His heart had stopped. The life he had wished for was at an end.

“Yes…my Lord.”

~
Ten seconds.
~

The snow leopard paced.
Hermione shook uncontrollably as she clutched her locket.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort’s icy hand clasped Draco’s arm.

Draco clenched his right fist at his side.

~
Five seconds…
~

Hermione stared at the watch hand tick.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco stared at Voldemort’s wand as it pressed into his flesh.

~
Three seconds.
~

Hermione held her breath.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco held his breath.

~
Two seconds.
~

Hermione looked back at the watch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Draco looked up at the clock.

~
One second.
~

“I love you,” Hermione whispered into the wind.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Voldemort began to hiss, but all Draco heard was a whispered, “I love you.”

He smiled behind his mask.

~
Noon.
~

Hermione released an anguished scream and the snow leopard roared with her. She collapsed into a quivering mass and the leopard whooshed away.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Molten lava leaked from the tip of the wand inserted into Draco’s arm. It spread out beneath his skin and devoured his muscle.

His blood boiled. His marrow melted through his bones. His organs exploded. He was being torn in half. He was being stabbed a thousand times. His skin was shredded away; salt rubbed into the wounds. The sensation of hundred dementors closing in on him attacked his very soul.

Draco clenched his jaw tighter than should have been humanly possible to hold back the screams he was on the verge of releasing. He felt his teeth crack again.

His throat was on fire. He couldn’t breathe. He was blind. He was deaf. The world was spinning. Ice now replaced the lava in his veins and his body seized. He was wracked with spasms and cramps as his exhausted muscles began to die.

He was dying. He wanted to die. Hell didn’t scare him…he’d just felt more than it had to offer in one go.

Draco teetered between consciousness and oblivion as Voldemort removed his wand.

Draco slumped into himself and choked for air. Tears leaked involuntarily from his eyes behind the mask and blood dripped from his nose and ears. The taste of iron filled his mouth. He tried to move and his muscles screamed at him. He looked down at his arm to see the angry brand left there.

He closed his eyes.

He was a Death Eater…again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“She wants to be alone Ronald! She doesn’t feel good. Why can’t you just let her be?” Ginny said angrily as she clung desperately to her brother’s arm to hold him back.

Ron wrenched his arm free of Ginny’s grasp and glared at her. He had seen Hermione walk off over a half hour ago and he was getting worried. She was his best friend. He needed to make sure she was okay.

“I’m worried about her,” he confessed with a frown as he started in the direction he had seen Hermione go. Ginny trotted alongside him.

“Please, Ron. Let her alone. I promised I wouldn’t let anyone bother her. She’s…she’s…”

“Missing her boyfriend?” Ron said, suddenly stopping to look his sister in her now stunned face. He shook his head at her. “With all those years growing-up with Fred and George, you should know better than to assume no one can hear you, Gin,” he scoffed as he pulled an Extendable Ear from his pocket. He dangled it in Ginny’s face and she slapped his hand.

“How dare you eavesdrop on us!? You call yourself her friend?” Ginny scolded, channeling her mother in a way that almost made Ron cringe. He scowled at her.

“Of course I do. I listened because I’m her friend. She’s been acting strange since she got here. I want to be able to help her,” he said somewhat sadly.

“You aren’t upset that she has a boyfriend?” Ginny asked skeptically. “You flipped out your fourth year when she merely dated Krum.”

Ron looked off in the distance in Hermione’s direction and sighed. “I’ve wanted her since I met her, Gin. But for some reason…I’m not upset. I just want her safe. Feels like something bigger depends on it...” He shook his head with a confused look.

Ginny twisted her lips as she carefully considered this person in front of her that looked like her brother. Ron had never acted so calmly over something like this. But he seemed sincere.

“Okay,” she said softly. “We’ll go find her, but if she seems all right then we leave her alone. Got it?”

Ron nodded and the two trekked across the yard.

A few minutes later they heard Hermione’s quiet sobs floating down from the hill as they approached it. They gave each other an anxious glance and hurried up the slope. When they reached the top they found Hermione curled-up into a ball, clutching her necklace as she cried. She didn’t even acknowledge their presence. Ron bent down and carefully lifted Hermione into his arms and Ginny gathered her robes, wand and mirror.

Hermione turned into Ron and put a hand on his chest as he carried her slowly down the hill.
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Songs of Regret